


Bitter Stars

by VidalinaV



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, Gen, Mulan AU, War, nesta centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-30 01:27:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14485779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VidalinaV/pseuds/VidalinaV
Summary: It was easy, for Nesta, to believe the world was cruel. After all, her boots had crushed skulls much mightier than she, and still she trampled above them. Still she lived. While the ribbon on her wrist, tinged grey from wear, threatened to fall off all together, still she lived.The world laughed at her misfortune.Loosely-inspired Mulan  AU





	Bitter Stars

**Author's Note:**

> I have nothing better to do for a whole year after ACOFAS, so I’m writing fanfiction! It’s not a generally happy or light fic, but interesting I think later on, and I will update every Sunday! Here’s a sneak peak of what’s to come!

**Prologue**

* * *

 

 

They marched through the smell of burning flesh and wood. Their heavy boots splashed through the muddied dirt and their hands brushed the sky’s tears away from their grimaces and silent pleas. Somewhere the yells of a woman could be heard, the terrible shrieking that, if she were allowed, would have made her rush to the woman and hold her.

It was inevitable that someone would die. Maybe her child had been trampled by the horses, maybe the earlier soldiers had stabbed a knife through her husband’s heart. It was as easy to imagine, as it was to forget.

She continued her march, forward, straight ahead. It was a skill she taught herself long ago. If she looked forward, she wouldn’t see the blood. She wouldn’t see the burning. Nesta would only feel its warmth caressing her arms like the thin arms of her sisters, her father, and her mother.

She counted steps like they counted bodies, and their lord counted his endless piles of money. 800 more and she’d be passed the border, 6,000 more and Nesta would be free. For a night, at least, but she’d be passed the smells that clung to her skin and her memory. Sweat and death never made good perfume.

5,999 more steps and she’d be in the quiet, little room where her books were stacked neatly along the walls, and the moon shined through the alcove above her bed.  _There_ she could pretend and imagine and forget.

5998 more steps and she could breathe.

Nesta touched the ribbon tied around her wrist. A lover, she had told them, had given it to her, tied the yellow string around her wrist and told her to remember the smell of her hair that stained her pillows. The story was elaborate, detailed if only to keep the truth away from their questioning, hungry gazes. She would not dare tell them the truth.

It was easy, for Nesta, to believe the world was cruel. After all, her boots had crushed skulls much mightier than she, and still she trampled above them. Still she lived. While the ribbon on her wrist, tinged grey from wear, threatened to fall off all together,  _still she lived_.

The world laughed at her misfortune.

**Author's Note:**

> And we’re off! I’ve been waiting to write this fanfic for a long time now and I really like where I’m going with it. Hopefully I don’t disappoint. LMK how you feel about this
> 
> Tumblr: Canyousensethesarcasm


End file.
